Just another polar bear adrift in the sea

Einstein or someone smarter than me once said that time is relative. Considering how much my relatives hate me* I can see what that really means. It’s not that time hates me. I’m not sure how time feels about me. We don’t speak since that “hurry Christmas up” incident when I was seven.

My personal time (Ichabod is what I call him**) is what I struggle with the most. For some reason, the wonderful way I could block out time to get things done when I was younger has all gone away now that I have lived a grasshopper lifestyle. This little ant has lost her knack for getting things done and doesn’t know how to recapture that skill. Most things are still getting done. Work, sleeping, work, cleaning, work, but my personal goals seem to always take a back seat to those other ones. When it comes to me time it’s mostly spent on Tumblr and binge watching t.v. not doing much of those things that in theory I want to accomplish. The fact that I need to be online for some of my work has been very key in keeping me sitting in front of my computer doing nothing of importance instead of simply carving out an hour to work then getting up and knocking out some of those personal to-dos.

Is it a matter of willpower? Do I just need to put aside all the “yes but…” excuses, get off my ass and just do it. Fake it till I make it? Am I so overworked that I run and hide whenever I can? Am I addicted to the computer? Am I overthinking this? Most likely all of these things. Where oh where is the magic pill that will make things right?

*Please note that while my distant relatives may like me my immediate siblings and their spouses pretty much think of me as the devil but I am ok with that

**this is totally not true. My personal time doesn’t like conventional names.